


Do Not Buy Mirrors Off Craigslist

by NicoNarratives



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Ghost Sex, Ghosts, M/M, Mirror Sex, Narcissism, god bless this site that mirror sex is already a tag, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-15 12:55:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1305601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicoNarratives/pseuds/NicoNarratives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Single haunted mirror looking for mirror fetishist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do Not Buy Mirrors Off Craigslist

Do Not Buy Mirrors Off Craigslist

Ash side-eyes his bedroom mirror while unzipping his pants. His reflection pushes the fabric down and off his ankles, the hard curve of himself visible through his boxers.

He sucks in air through his teeth.

The mirror is a big and bronze framed. It's too large for his apartment bedroom (he can see himself no matter where he stands), but it was a great deal and an antique to boot.

Ash covers it when he masturbates. It didn't use to bother him, he thinks as he watches his reflection palm himself. As a teenager he watched himself all the time, fascinated by his own body. His own reactions. Then he moved out and he had no full mirror for a while.

He's not sure why he started covering this one, actually. There's just something about it, how large it is maybe, that makes him feel vulnerable. It's almost like looking through a doorway.

Pushing his boxers away and taking firm hold of his dick, Ash mutters, "Fuck it."

He stands in front of the mirror and pulls himself in long, easy strokes. A hand wanders over his chest, pushing his t-shirt over his collarbone. Ash watches his ribs flutter with a sudden inhale as he swipes his thumb over the head of his dick.

Yeah. This works. He licks his lips and wishes he was confident enough to do this in front of another person. His reflection is wiry yet soft, not bad at all, but he can only imagine someone laughing at him.

Ash sits on his bed and crawls back, hand never leaving his body, until he's leaning against the headboard. He's pumping himself harder now, watching the twist of his fist every upward pass. He doubts he'll last long watching his pleasure echoed.

He's got a dildo somewhere. Maybe he'll fuck himself on it and watch. The way pleasure squeezes his gut has him gasping and knowing he won't last for it. Definitely later.

So Ash just lays back, running his other hand over his nipples and the sharp jut of his pelvis. The mirror reflects him back so large, so real, he almost looks like a stranger. He closes his eyes and arches into his fist, caught between making it last and wanting it now.

When he opens them again, he meets his reflection's eyes.

Ash stops breathing, frozen on the bed.

His reflection is standing just at the edge of the mirror, both hands flat against the glass.

He's too scared to scream. It's not him. Whatever it is, it has his dandelion hair, his narrow limbs, but it isn't him. His reflection smiles and looks down, running a hand over his abdomen, expression appreciative. It steps aside and Ash sees himself, his real image, still laying on the bed, perfectly reflecting the blank faced horror he feels.

He watches the other reflection crawl onto the bed and he makes a sound of terror, crawling back. It, whatever it is, follows him with Ash's own body and touches his knee.

Ash feels a narrow palmed hand touch him. He screams and kicks and feels it connect.

There's no sound, but the monstrous reflection falls off the bed. It turns around to look at Ash, rubbing its jaw. It gestures wildly. At Ash, at itself, at its erection.

Ash wants to run, but the thing is between him and the door. He flicks his eyes to the exit, judging the distance.

When he looks back, the Not-him is touching itself and watching Ash. It's smiling, lopsided, nothing like how Ash smiles. It points at him.

What the fuck.

It mouths something.

It points again.

Ash realizes what it's mouthing.

Beautiful.

His breath stutters in his throat. He catches his face in the mirror and his expression is so vulnerable that he's ashamed. He didn't know he could look so weak.

The Not-him looks concerned. It mouths something else, but Ash can't understand. It slowly sits on the bed again.

Ash should run. The Not-him scoots carefully backward, throwing him little glances. Ash feels the bed dip and he's so lightheaded. This can't be real. The Not-him settles directly next to his own reflection. It sprawls and Ash feels the mattress sink right beside him.

The Not-him pushes away its boxers and resumes touching itself, eyes on Ash's through the mirror.

Ash is completely limp. In every way.

The Not-him relaxes when he doesn't run. Soon it shucks off its (Ash's) shirt, clearly admiring itself (Ash). It turns and twists, expression awed.

Ash hates himself for hardening at that.

The Not-him notices and purses its lips. It raises its unoccupied hand and hovers it near Ash. This can't be real. He can't be afraid if it's not real. So he doesn't move as the hand nears his reflection.

Every muscle in his body clenches when something very solid touches his arm.

The Not-him freezes, too, staring into his reflection with a questioning look.

Deft fingers trail up Ash's arm, over his collarbone. It feels just like his own fingers, like a real man's hands. The rough slide of fingerprints and callouses is real. Another hand joins the other down his stomach.

The Not-him gives him one last look before straddling him. He can feel thighs hug his hips, but he sees right through whatever is touching him. All he sees is his reflection and the back of a man hovering over him. It's surreal. He doesn't recognize his own back. It's like watching a porno.

He's totally hard now. Fingers trail over his and place his own hand over his heavy dick. Ash strokes himself and watches the mirror, the smooth back muscles sliding under pale skin as the Not-him watches. It looks back and smiles, brilliantly.

Ash smiles back, too far gone to bother otherwise.

He feels and watches a man touch him all over, worshiping him. Ash pumps himself roughly, orgasm approaching quickly and violently. He sees the man duck and feels a tongue lap at his nipple and he climaxes hard, coming long stripes over his chest.

An invisible tongue licks circles into him through it and when he collapses back onto the bed, his vision is half stars. He blinks back to the mirror just in time to see the Not-him fall over. It lays beside him, eyes narrowed and jaw open, intently watching itself come, too.

It pants, wide mouthed, hand slowing as its dick softens, but Ash hears nothing.

The Not-him meets his eyes and offers a lopsided smile. Ash returns it and looks beside himself. There's nothing there. He glances back to the mirror.

There's only one of himself reflected.

Ash shoots up. He pats the area beside him. Nothing. He throws the usual sheet over the mirror as quick as he can before checking the rest of the room, hands out like he's gone blind.

Nothing.

Ash collapses on the bed, relieved. A shake is starting in his bones as something like reality sets in. Did that-Did he-Really?

He's never come so hard in his life.

His dick stiffens again just thinking about it.

The mirror doesn't stir, of course. The sheet blocks everything out.

Ash opens his sock drawer and rummages. He pulls out a bottle of lube and a ridged, blue dildo.

He wavers a moment, questioning his own sanity.

The sheet falls away and Ash's frown flickers at his grinning reflection.


End file.
